


Angry Dog

by ineswrites



Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Ableism, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Disabled Characters, Dystopia, Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Schizophrenia, Sexual Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineswrites/pseuds/ineswrites
Summary: Wade had tried to kill Sabretooth, many times. The problem with Sabretooth was that he couldn’t die. Neither could Wade, so they were kind of stuck with each other. Wade hadn’t seen it before, but it made them connected. Destined for each other, like a hunter and its prey. And, without a doubt, Wade was the prey. Because somehow, even when it seemed that he lost, Sabretooth always won. When he killed Nessa, when he made Nate explode himself along with Providence and now, when he made Wade his personal toy. Wade saw it. He wasn’t that stupid. Everyone would see it if they were him. The problem with Wade was that he didn’t care anymore. Sabretooth had food, and he let Wade eat sometimes, and it was enough to stay. Despite everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. This fic is very ugly.
> 
> I remembered this little ficlet I wrote back in May. It was inspired by Deadpool #57 (1997) .  
> It's an alternate universe in which villains took over New York. Hence, Sabretooth's still a bad guy and Logan and Cyclops are still alive. Also, Deadpool was a rare sight in New York, so Spider-Man barely knows him.
> 
> Everything I know about New York's geography comes from Google Maps, so please bear with me.

Wade was woken up by rays of sunshine getting into his apartment through a broken window, illuminating dust that danced in the air. He leaned away from its reach, his eyes hurt from too much light. He sat up in his nest, made mainly of old and dirty clothing – not all of which was _his_ – and looked at the corner of his room. Curled in a ball, Weasel lay there, unmoving. Wade wasn’t even sure if he was alive anymore. He was blindfolded, his lips were sewn – Wade touched his mask in a place where underneath his own lips were sewn – and he wasn’t giving any signs of life.

“Get up, big guy,” another him said, standing in between a worn out coffee table and a dead body. His arms were crossed on his chest. “You’ve got a job to do.”

Wade glared at him. Other Wade smirked under his white and black mask.

Wade started seeing him soon after Sabretooth sewed his mouth shut. He couldn’t talk, so his mind conjured another him that could – and for some reason, was wearing his old X-Force costume. It was more annoying than anything, as not only Wade could never talk back, it reminded him of the old days. Good days. When he still had friends. At the same time the inner voice he always heard went silent, so maybe it wasn’t as much a new hallucination as it was an old one he could now, beside hear, also see.

“Stop moping,” Wade said. “We’re hungry. Sabretooth said that when you killed Cyclops, he’d let you eat.”

He knew, right? Take out the leader, his nation will fall. That’s what Sabretooth said, anyway.

He looked at Weasel again. Part of him wanted to poke him, see, if he was still alive. Another part, the greater one, didn’t care.

He stood up, kicking off the parts of the nest that clung to him. His costume was in a poor state – stained by blood and other fluids, full of holes and rips, and smelly like everything else in this so-called apartment. About that he didn’t care either. That was his only suit.

He climbed out through the broken window, shattered glass catching the skin on his thighs, blood sinking into his ripped suit before the small wounds closed again. He jumped down on the street, scattered garbage cracking and rustling beneath his feet. He unsheathed his katana, clean and shining – the only thing he still took care of – and started walking, all his senses alert. If he was a one-eyed angst-cushion, where would he hide?

“And where do people hide? In cellars! Where food is!”

Wade shook his head. It didn’t matter if he found food, he couldn’t eat it anyway. Sabretooth saw to it.

“We should kill him. Why didn’t we kill him?”

Wade shuddered. He had tried to kill Sabretooth, many times. The problem with Sabretooth was that he couldn’t die. Neither could Wade, so they were kind of stuck with each other. Wade hadn’t seen it before, but it made them connected. Destined for each other, like a hunter and its prey. And, without a doubt, Wade was the prey. Because somehow, even when it seemed that he lost, Sabretooth always won. When he killed Nessa, when he made Nate explode himself along with Providence and now, when he made Wade his personal toy. Wade saw it. He wasn’t that stupid. Everyone would see it if they were him. The problem with Wade was that he didn’t care anymore. Sabretooth had food, and he let Wade eat sometimes, and it was enough to stay. Despite everything.

He shuddered again at the thought of the “everything”. A sharp pain went through his lips, even though he didn’t move them. He rubbed them through his mask until it went away and walked between the ruined buildings. The doors were broken open, parts of them lying on the ground, no matter if they were wooden or metal or plastic. The only one still intact belonged to an old Italian restaurant. “Sorry, we’re closed,” the plate said. A frightened, pale face showed up in one of the windows above just to disappear the moment it spotted him. Most of the civilians left New York City when the war started, but few stayed. Idiots, if you ask him.

“Restaurant, check the restaurant.”

He wanted to tell the other Wade to shut up, or even better, stop following him. Scott wasn’t hiding in a closed restaurant.

He climbed on a rooftop, not really careful despite the building’s ruined state – when was he ever careful – to have a better look at the city.

A noise reached him as soon as he was up there. He looked down and saw four people fighting on one of the streets below, not that far away. Three of them were dressed in black and Wade didn’t recognize them. They were giving another guy a hard time. His costume was purple, he was carrying a quiver with arrows and held a bow in his hand. His opponents weren’t giving him a chance to shoot, so he was forced to defend himself with bare arms. Wade walked to the edge of the rooftop to see better, the muscles of his shoulders tense.

There was a time when Hawkeye and he were… well, not friends. There weren’t many people in this world that would willingly call themselves Deadpool’s friends and mean it. But they were something. One could say they were close, once upon a time. Seeing him now, seeing him alive… Well, Wade didn’t think it would happen.

Hawkeye was getting tired, his moves slower and sloppy. He knocked one of the men out, but there were still two of them, fighting to kill. There were only three arrows left in his quiver. He took one of them and shot – he missed – no, he didn’t – the arrow exploded and while it didn’t harm his opponents, it gave him the time he needed to get away. Wade jumped down on the fire escape and ran down the stairs, then the way he saw Hawkeye head. He caught up with him soon enough; exhausted, Hawkeye wasn’t able to run at his full speed. He followed him, hiding behind the buildings.

“I get it,” Wade said. “One bee will take you to a swarm.”

Hawkeye slowed down to a stop. He leaned on his knees, panting. Still alive. Curious. It was hard to say if he was just this lucky or quite the opposite.

He straightened up suddenly, his hand reaching for an arrow in a blink of an eye. He looked around, alert, with his bow loaded and drawn. Wade clung to a cool, dirty wall and held his breath. Cool wall. Good wall. Good for skin.

“Focus, moron.”

Deadpool peeked from behind the wall, carefully, just enough to be able to see what was going on. Hawkeye’s arms were down again, still holding his bow and arrow, and he was still breathing heavily. Finally, he put the arrow back in the quiver, turned around, and slipped inside one of the buildings. Wade watched it closely to memorize it – his memory was never good, but now it was even worse. There wasn’t a day he didn’t forget about something, important or not.

“What are you doing? Get inside!” Wade yelled at him when he started to walk away. “Get inside, kill Scott, get food! Easy math, even you can get it!”

Wade ignored him. Last time he checked, Hawkeye wasn’t rubbing shoulders with the mutants. Maybe he was on his own, maybe not, but Scott Summers wasn’t there.

“Then why did you follow him?! You thought he was gonna throw you some old bread like some kinda pigeon?”

He wished Wade would shut up about food.

 

***

 

As a kid, Peter enjoyed reading science fiction novels. Especially ones about post-apocalyptic, dystopian worlds.

Of course, at the time he had no idea he’d end up living in one of them. He might have read merrier stories otherwise. Ones that would provide him escapism now instead of then.

“Are we there yet?” Miles asked as the three of them landed on a rooftop. Peter shook his head.

“Cyclops wanted to meet in Café Grumpy.”

Venom snorted. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

“Apparently one of the safest buildings around.”

“And it suits him, too, doesn’t it?” Miles raised one eyebrow behind his mask. Peter glanced at them behind his shoulder but didn’t join in on the joking. The three of them. It used to be more. They lost Jessica just last week. They had yet to find Cindy’s body. It pushed Peter to make the decision to join the mutants. X-Men were never really fond of him, and he imagined they’d be even more distrustful of Miles and _Venom_. But Wolverine was his friend and he managed to convince Cyke that together they were stronger than when scattered around the city.

They landed on another rooftop. They were close to the Café now. Peter stood still for a moment, alert. They haven’t run into any of the villains as of yet. That was rather unlikely, but were they watched, he’d sense that.

Miles pointed at the street below. “Isn’t that Scott?”

Now all of them saw the red light from Cyclops’s optic blast. It blinded them for a second, and when they regained their sight, they saw two figures fighting. One of them was surely Scott. The other one was shorter than him but larger, more ripped, his costume as red as the force from Cyke’s eyes. He blasted at his opponent again, but the man dodged, and the next thing they knew, Scott’s head fell from his shoulders, the ruby beam still illuminating his surroundings for a while before it weakened and faded away for good. His opponent let his sword down, blood from the blade dripping on the ground, as he watched the headless body collapse. Miles yelped and covered his mouth with his hands. Thankfully, only Peter and Venom could hear it as it was drawn out in an angry roar and a “Logan, no!” that followed.

Down below, Logan was running towards the red-clad man, his adamantium claws out. “Stay behind if you want,” he yelled to the other guy that must have been hiding around the corner, or inside one of the buildings, as neither of the Spider-Men nor Venom could see him. “He can’t kill _me._ ”

“Who’s this?” Miles asked as they watched the red-clad man easily fight off Wolverine’s attacks with his sword.

“Deadpool,” Peter replied in a voice that didn’t bode well. “A mercenary. Completely crazy. No idea what he’s doing here, though. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“I can take him,” Venom decided and jumped off the roof, right when Deadpool pinned Wolverine with his sword to the ground, right through his chest.

“Venom, WAIT—Ah, whatever.”

“He’ll be alright, right?”

“He should be,” Peter answered, not sure if Miles asked about Logan or Venom, but he hoped both would be alright. “I’ve seen enough, I’m joining in. Stay camouflaged. I lost enough spiders this month.”

He jumped down, too. Now Cable also joined the battle – it was he who must have been hiding before. He was trying to shoot Deadpool with one of his big guns, but it wasn’t very effective. Deadpool was using the same ineffective method to fight off Venom, who just tried to knock him out with a punch, what would be a good strategy, provided he was able to land at least one on him. Peter didn’t remember Deadpool to be that good at dodging. He would say something witty, both to announce his presence and insult him, but in all the noise they were making, there was no point to bother with that. 

Deadpool suddenly stuck something to Venom’s costume and jumped at Cable, tackling him to the ground. Peter’s spider-sense vibrated in his skull and he automatically jumped away on the nearest wall. He felt a heatwave on his face and heard Flash’s pained scream mixed into a boom of explosion. With his heart in his throat, Peter jumped towards him, reaching him in seconds. Flash was lying on the ground, groaning, the burning symbiote dripping off him.

“Spidey, why didn’t you do anything?” was the first thing Flash asked. Peter’s face was burning and it had nothing to do with the explosion or the fire he was now trying to put out with his feet and webs.

“I was… He was too fast, I…” he trailed off, not knowing how to finish. He had no idea why he was so sure Venom and Cable were enough to defeat Deadpool.

Miles reached them with a bucket of water in his hands. He put out the rest of the burning symbiote.

“I told you to stay in camouflage,” Peter scolded him.

“I’m _fine_.” It was obvious Miles was rolling his eyes behind his mask. “That Deadpool guy is gone. I’m more worried about Venom.”

Peter looked where he saw Deadpool the last time and his heart skipped a beat. Cable was lying on the ground with a bullet hole in his head, but the merc himself was gone without a trace.

“How does it look?” Flash asked as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Oh no.” He touched a burnt part of his symbiote. “Venom? Venom!”

“He’s been through worse,” Peter said, his attention getting back to his friend. “He just needs time to heal. He’ll catch up.” He was probably right, as most of the symbiote already disappeared in the nearest sewer drain.

Somebody behind them cleared their throat. “Little help here?”

Miles reached Wolverine who must have just regained consciousness, took the sword out of his body and dropped it on the ground. He sat up and looked at Flash.

“You don’t look so hot, bub,” he said.

“Yeah, nice to see you, too.”

Wolverine got up, passed by the slightly burned headless body of Scott trying not to look at it and kneeled down to check on Cable. Peter followed him.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said.

“We knew he was after us. It was a risk we agreed to take.”

“After you? Why?” Peter thought it was a coincidence. Just another hero versus villain fight. That was how they lost Jessica.

“Sabretooth wants to get us and Deadpool is his puppy,” Logan explained. He circled the bullet hole in Cable’s head with his finger. “I ain’t saying he wasn’t crazy before, but now he’s a total maniac. Nothing human left in him. He ain’t even running that yap of his. He’s more like an angry dog.” He pressed two fingers to Cable’s neck on the opposite side, where his artery would be.

“If he’s like an angry dog, maybe he needs help,” Miles said from behind them. He was carrying Flash in his arms. Wolverine glanced at him from above his shoulder.

“Kid, trust me, if you ever happen to face him on your own, he won’t be the one in the need of help.” Peter felt something cold creep up his spine; he knew Deadpool, he had never been really afraid of him, but Logan did make him sound scary. Wolverine turned back to Cable. “He’s still alive.”

“What? But—” Peter pointed at the bullet hole. It looked quite lethal.

“Wade hit him in his techno-organic mesh. You can’t kill him that way.”

“Wow. We’re lucky Deadpool didn’t know that.”

Wolverine frowned. “Yeah…” After a moment he shrugged, picked Cable up, and nodded towards the entrance to the building of which rooftop Spider-Men and Venom were previously standing on. “Fruitcake figured out our HQ, but I got a feeling he won’t be back for the time being. Be my guests.”

They followed him, leaving Scott’s burned remains behind.

 

***

 

Wade got lost three times before he found the building he so thoroughly memorized.

“What are we doing here?” The other Wade whined. “Let’s go eat!”

Wade couldn’t tell him to shut up so he just glared at him. He reached the door to the building he knew Hawkeye was hiding in and took the quiver he was carrying off his shoulder. It was filled with his own, hulk fist trick arrows. He put it down on the porch.

The other Deadpool stood with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. “This is the most pathetic I’ve seen you.”

They both knew it wasn’t true.

Wade banged on the door, not sure if Hawkeye could hear it, nor if he even was inside. Banging some more to make sure wasn’t worth the risk though, so he sprinted towards one of the nearest buildings and hid behind it.

He didn’t have to wait long for the sound of the door opening. He took a little peek. Hawkeye was standing in the door, his bow drawn, an arrow readied. He looked around, but as he didn’t notice any danger, he lowered the bow and looked at the quiver at his feet. Slowly he pulled out one of the arrows and stared at a green fist in the place of an arrowhead. Then he looked around again and Deadpool promptly stepped back to fully hide. He didn’t look again until he heard the door open and shut again; when he emerged from his hideout, Hawkeye was gone, along with the quiver.

“Okay, I get it,” the other Deadpool said. “A good deed for a bad dee—no, I don’t get it.”

Deadpool kept walking, doing his best to ignore him.

“But now we’re going to Sabretooth? Oh, we are!” Deadpool rejoiced when he saw where they were going. “We are, we are!”

The villains occupied the other side of Manhattan, from Upper West Side probably up to Inwood, although Wade never checked that far. It was easily noticeable where the villains district started: it was colorful, flashy and noisy, and it swarmed with people. The bars were open, now ran by criminals (the prices _were_ a crime), food was easy to come by, and if one knew where, they could buy themselves a woman for an hour or two (or a boy, if that was what they preferred). In other words, the land of milk and honey. That was, if one forgot it was still the land of criminals, so everybody could get robbed, raped and murdered any time of the day for no reason at all. But otherwise, it was an idyll.

The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants had their headquarters in the center of it all, although underground, below an unobtrusive building. Wade always had mixed feelings when going there. On one hand Sabretooth would cut the thread that held his lips together and feed him. On the other…

Somebody bumped into him while he was busy nervously staring at the entrance to the HQ.

“What the fuck, man?” he slurred, obviously drunk. Wade turned his head to look at him – a bald man with unhealthy greyish skin in a leather jacket. As soon as the drunk realized who he was looking at, his eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry.” He left as fast as he could without actually running, his expression frightened like if he saw Death herself. Wade watched him until he disappeared behind a corner. Then he turned his head to look at the entrance some more.

“I stand corrected,” Deadpool said. “This is the most pathetic I’ve ever seen you.”

Wade still thought there were at least five moments in his life when he was being more pathetic but he didn’t really wanna think about them right then. Finally, he entered the building and took the stairs to the basement. The HQ was nice if a little modest, but the mutants had everything they needed in there, and more. Daken, the spoiled brat, was slouching in an armchair, playing Kingdom Hearts and stuffing his mouth with potato chips. He didn’t even glance Deadpool’s way, not that he needed to; he must have smelled him before Wade walked into the room. Sabretooth emerged from behind the door that led to the bedroom. He must have sniffed him out, too. Deadpool hated that ability of theirs, made it very hard to sneak up on them. Not that he planned to sneak up on them… But maybe he would, otherwise.

“You killed Cyclops, moron?” Sabretooth asked, approaching him. Wade nodded and unsheathed his katana to show him the blade still stained with Cyclops’s blood. Sabretooth took it from him and sniffed. He smirked.

“Very well,” he said. “Now you want me to _feed you_? Take off your mask.”

Wade didn’t like the way Creed said those words, and neither he did that smirk of his, but he took of his mask obediently. Sabretooth put his hand on Wade’s shoulder and pushed down. _Oh._ So that kind of feeding. His body trembled in protest as he kneeled down. Daken eyed them warily from his armchair. He stood up.

“I don’t need to see this,” he announced before exiting the room. Sabretooth paid him no mind. He cut Wade’s thread with a penknife, pocketed it and lowered down his pants, releasing his already half-erected cock.

Wade heard the other Deadpool’s throaty laughter as he closed his eyes and took the cock in his mouth.

“You thought he’d be pleased with you?” His whisper in his ear was rough and mocking. “How long it took you to kill Cyclops? And you dare to call yourself an assassin? More like an ass. Be glad he still keeps you.”

Usually when sucking, Wade tried to think about something else, but other Deadpool made it all the harder for him. He opened his eyes and looked to the left, searching for a distraction. And a distraction he found: Bob stood right behind Creed, his arms crossed on his chest.

“You deserve it for killing me, Mr. Wilson.”

Wade looked right, away from Bob, but he could still sense his presence, just like he could sense presence of the other Deadpool behind his back. Leaning on the back of Daken’s armchair was Nessa, her eyes glassy from held back tears.

“You promised you wouldn’t let me down,” she said in a wobbly voice. “How could you let him kill me?”

Wade looked down, right on Sabretooth’s dick. It grew in his mouth so much it didn’t fit anymore. Wade considered deep-throating him; if Creed was pleased with him enough, he might give him real food afterwards.

“Why, yes, suck my murderer’s dick.” Nessa’s whisper was now croaky and cruel. Wade closed his eyes again, swallowing Creed whole, which earned him a strangled moan. Somebody smacked him upside the head and he twitched. It wasn’t Sabretooth – his hands were still on Wade’s shoulders, unmoving.

“Don’t you dare throw up, cocksucker.” That was Sabretooth, his voice tight, breath shallow.

“Look at me!” That was the other Deadpool, shouting at him from behind Sabretooth’s shoulder. Wade reluctantly opened his eyes. X-Force Deadpool changed into Evil Deadpool, that abomination created from different parts of his body. “That’s right! Look at me and tell me, do you see yourself?”

“Pathetic,” X-Force Deadpool whispered in his ear. Were there two of him now? Great.

“Maybe if you didn’t kill me, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Bob said.

Wade sped up to get this over with. He focused on breathing through his nose. Compared to his hallucinations, sucking Sabretooth off wasn’t half bad.

Sabretooth’s hands clenched on his shoulders. He was close. Good. Just don’t slow down now. It’ll be over in a minute. Maybe you’ll even get food. Just a moment longer…

Creed came with a grunt, spilling his seed down Wade’s throat. Wade slowly retracted the cock from his mouth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was still thread hanging from his lips. He wondered if eating it was worth bothering.

Creed put his pants up, took the plastic bowl with Daken’s potato chips and threw it at Wade. The contents flew out and scattered around the floor. Wade picked them up and put them back into the bowl. Still on his knees, he crawled to the corner to eat the chips in peace. He stilled when Creed patted him on the head, like a well-behaved pet. It was perhaps more humiliating than sucking his cock.

Wade waited for Creed to go back to the bedroom before he started eating. Potato chips weren’t what he was hoping for – they weren’t very nutritious, and there was barely enough of them to appease his hunger, but they were still better than just Sabretooth’s jizz.

He was down to a handful when he found himself relaxing, shifting to sit down on the floor in the more comfortable position instead of just crouching over his food. He put the bowl in his lap, his eyes wandering around the room. That was a mistake.

Nessa’s dead body lay on the floor, her insides spilling out on her chest and floor. She was facing him with her eyes open but unseeing. His saliva turned watery, a sharp pain went through his stomach and he only managed to reach the door before he bent in half, retching and vomiting. His wobbly knees gave out under him and hit the ground hard. When he was done and trying to get on his shaking limbs, a kick to the ribs sent him back to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Disgusting,” Daken commented. He disappeared behind the door to come back after a moment. He threw a rug at Wade. “Clean it up. Creed would make you lick it.”

Daken was right about Creed, so Wade obeyed. He got on his knees and wiped out the small mess he made. When he was done, feeling both nauseous and starving, he crawled back to the room to finish his potato chips.

 

***

 

Beside Wolverine and Cable, the remaining X-Men consisted of Angel, Nightcrawler, Storm and Forge. A small team compared to what they used to be just before the war started.

Logan put Deadpool’s sword against the wall and led Spider-Men through the kitchen to a small, round, dark room. Angel and Storm were already inside, sitting at a round, wooden table so old it was cracked on the surface.

“I thought you had power,” Peter said, looking up in search of light.

“We do, but we don’t have spare bulbs. Forge’s on it.” Logan slumped in a chair. Spider-Men followed him.

“We need to find a new place, Logan,” Storm said, her gray eyes bright in the darkness.

“I know. I’ll put Nightcrawler to it when he’s back with food.”

“I can help,” Angel offered. Logan nodded and Angel excused himself. Storm sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“I told Scott it was a bad idea.”

Realizing she was talking about them, Peter frowned. “Excuse me. I’m sorry for your loss, but it’s not our fault Deadpool found you, guys. And we lost one of ours, too.”

Miles shifted uneasily. “You said Venom would be back.”

“Yeah, we don’t know that.”

Storm snorted. “You’re talking about a symbiote, Spider-Man? You dare compare this thing to Scott?”

“’Ro,” Logan said warningly.

“I’ll check up on Cable.” She got up and left the room.

“I know how it sounds,” Peter said almost apologetically. “Venom and I have a complicated relationship, but he’s an ally. Without him Flash can’t even walk.”

“I realize this, Webs.” Logan sighed. “I wish Nightcrawler brought some beer. Too bad Storm banned it since it’s not ‘essential’.” His tone suggested he didn’t agree with her.

Nightcrawler materialized in the HQ in a puff of purple smoke before sunset. Spider-Men offered to make sandwiches. Nightcrawler ate two before disappearing again to help Angel in his search of a new hideout. When neither of them was back the next morning, Logan started losing his cool.

“It’s taking too long,” he decided. He and Storm exchanged glances. “We gotta join them. The faster we move the better.”

“We can help,” Miles was quick to offer.

“I will help,” Peter corrected him.

“I can help, too!”

“You need to stay with Flash and Cable.”

“He’s right, kid,” Logan said. “Fruitcake will be back for this.” He pointed at the katana that was leaning on the wall, with Logan’s blood still staining its blade. Barely containing his rage, Miles nodded. He was tired of Peter treating him like a child. He was nineteen! Perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“Don’t let anybody in,” Peter added, proving he had the best of timing.

“I know! I’m not stupid!”

Storm, Logan and Peter left Miles feeling completely useless. He huffed in annoyance and sat at a tiny dining table. After a while of moping, he decided the least he could do was to make some sandwiches for Flash, so he stood up and got right to it.

Suddenly he felt a tingle in the back of his head and stilled. He tried to look back at the front door without turning his head, but it proved physically impossible. Besides, he didn’t need to look to know someone was outside. He could not only sense them, but also hear them now. He wanted to naively hope it was one of the X-Men or Peter himself, but he knew that if it was true, his spider sense wouldn’t have reacted. It only made itself known in the presence of danger.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a gunshot. He had to think quickly. Should he blend into his surroundings? That’s what Peter’d surely make him do. He shook his head. He couldn’t hide. Not now, when Flash and Cable couldn’t defend themselves. He had to protect them. And he would. That’d show Peter he was as good a hero as him, if not better.

Miles turned around and braced himself. The sight of Deadpool walking in didn’t surprise him. Logan warned him he’d be back just a moment ago.

Logan also warned him not to face him on his own.

Oh boy.

Deadpool’s moves were careful and silent, like if he wanted to stay stealthy despite the fact that Miles could clearly see him. The way Deadpool moved reminded Miles of ninjas – and he was using katana in fact, was he a ninja? When he got closer to the kitchen door, Miles noticed a gun in his right hand. He forced himself not to panic. It was just a gun, he could dodge a few bullets easily. Either way, he shouldn’t just stand there and stare, especially that Deadpool was staring back – at least Miles _thought_ he was staring back, but he wasn’t entirely sure because of the mask he wore. He ought to do something.

“Uhm… Hello, Mr. Deadpool,” he said in a modulated voice. Great Miles, very cute. Mother always taught him to be polite, but would Deadpool appreciate it?

Deadpool stilled, still staring at him. He was now standing in the kitchen door. If Miles wanted to run, he could only go to the small round room. But it was good, he thought. The further from Flash and Cable the better.

But Deadpool didn’t make any move indicating he was about to attack. Actually, he didn’t make any move at all. It wasn’t helping Miles’s anxiety. He’d rather know what to expect. Other than his head rolling off his shoulders. He blinked away the memory of Cyclops’s head falling to the ground.

“Uh, yeah, hi,” he continued. He was losing his battle with panic and it was making him babble. “I believe we weren’t properly introduced. I’m Spider-Man.”

Deadpool stared at him.

 _I’m going to die_ , Miles thought.

Suddenly, Deadpool moved. To be more specific, he shook his head. Then he put his free hand in one of his pouches. Miles stood on the tips of his toes, ready to run if Deadpool happened to pull out some kind of a bomb, or those throwing stars ninjas used. He flinched when Deadpool removed something from his pouch and aimed at him… But it wasn’t a weapon. He wasn’t even really aiming that at him. He just wanted to show him something – the something being a Spider-Man action figure. Deadpool pointed at the figure with the other hand that was still holding the gun. Blinking, Miles realized he understood what Deadpool wanted to say.

_You’re not Spider-Man. This is Spider-Man. You’re not him._

“Yeah, I know. I’m Spider-Man, too. There’s both of us now.”

Deadpool stared at him some more. Then he pocketed his action figure and looked around. Suddenly he nodded to himself, holstered his gun, walked up to his sword and picked it up. Sparing Miles no more attention, he turned back and left, carefully closing the door behind him.

Miles sighed in relief and fell on the closest chair, breathing slowly in and out. No villain had ever terrified him like Deadpool has. But why? What was so unsettling about him? He didn’t act dangerous – well, not now. Actually, he acted quite civil, when one overlooked breaking in. Maybe Logan wasn’t entirely right about him. Maybe there was something of human left in him. Something that could be saved.


End file.
